Compassion Is What The World Needs Most Right Now
by Saxxorz
Summary: After a long day at work, and a case that brings back memories. All Adam Ross really wants is to see her face. : Original Character


**Rating:** 13+  
**Original Character:** 'Cleo'  
**Inspired by:** I just got a random urge to write an Adam one-shot. First time for everything. I'll probably make a sequel to it later.

* * *

Adam Ross rubbed his forehead in a frustrated manner. His mind was weary from the long day at work. The horrible case that was accompanied by a mirage of memories. Memories the exhausted man had tried so hard to lock away.

The soft drizzle of rain echoed through the near empty office building. It was ten past eight as Adam pulled off his lab coat and traded it for a cozier jacket. Turned out he was one of the last workers of the night.

Stepping out onto the drenched sidewalk, he barely dodged an incoming splash of water from a passing car.

Thunder rang loud throughout the streets as lightening flashed in the distance. Adam disliked thunderstorms, though he was vaguely accustomed to them by now. At least it beat the snow that fell in New York. The weather in his God forsaken city was always fluctuating.

Adam found himself wandering uselessly towards a bar he had been frequenting for about a week now. The Late Night Café. A strange name for a low class bar. Either way, Adam didn't care right now. He just needed a cold beverage and a quiet place. A place to escape his persistent thoughts.

And he found that place at The Late Night Café.

He also found her.

A bartender just a little younger than himself. A shy girl with a charming smile and a good taste in coffee. She wasn't a big flirt with the customers and he never saw her drinking beer. Always Starbucks.

Of course he was always his nervous and stuttering self around her. Like all the other girls he's come in contact with. Always trying to muster up enough courage to ask her how her day was. It never worked out to his advantage.

He'd fumble uselessly over his words. It was futile to try and comprehend a sentence when around the opposite sex.

Besides, all he knew was her first name. Cleo. However, thinking back, he remembered none of the bartenders or waitresses went by their real names. Didn't exactly know why, but they always had 'codenames' or pet names.

He shook his head in dismay. He didn't even know the girl's real name. Just a pet name she had been assigned. Adam was beginning to feel like a fool for even thinking of trying.

A crack of thunder made him duck his head, pulling his right arm up as a cover. Another blow to his self-esteem.

Adam stopped in front of the double doors of the bar. They were large, steel doors, that gave him a feeling of being so very insignificant. By now his hair was dripping wet and his clothes were beginning to stick to his slender body. Sheepishly, he pushed open one of the doors; the smell of smoke and alcohol hit his nose without mercy.

No one looked in his direction. Something he was thankful for. Even though the patrons of the bar often kept to themselves, they still gave off a very warm and welcoming feeling. Strange for a bar.

Adam found his usual seat at the end of the bar. He tried not to look suspicious as he searched around the room for her. So many regulars were gathered together, chatting and laughing amongst themselves along with staff members.

It took him a few minutes before he spotted her. She was situated at the other end of the bar, serving up some male costumers. Her jet black hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. A few strands were hanging loosely from the bun. She looked more tired then usual with soft bags forming under her dim olive eyes. He wondered how long she had been working the shift. And if she was having a bad day like he was. Though he lacked the courage to ask.

Cleo wore the usual uniform for the bartenders. Black slacks with a white button up tee-shirt. Around her neck was the silver choker with pink sparkles encrusted in it. A feminine touch to her bland uniform.

Adam was surprised when she spotted him from the corner of her eye. A slight smile creased her lips as she made her way past some other bartenders and to his end. He let his line of vision drop to the counter, that overwhelming feeling of nervousness kicking in.

"The usual, Mister Ross?" She was so polite towards him. He nodded a coy nod, glancing upwards towards her. She was looking away, pouring his usual brew.

When she set it in front of him, it was accompanied by a white dish towel. He gave her a confused look that only made her smile grow. "You're dripping all over the counter, hun."

"Uh, ah, sorry." He stuttered, snatching up the towel and using it to dry his hair. God, was he embarrassed. He felt like a little kid getting scolded by his mother. "You should pack an umbrella with you." She advised with a softer smile.

"Sure…" He stared down at his beer, subconsciously his thumb rubbed against the cool glass.

"Cleo!" A blond haired girl waved her over. "Excuse me, Adam." With that, she drifted to the other girl. The fact that she'd used his first name made him perk up a bit. He took a long sip of his beer, watching her carefully.

The other cheery girl seemed to be gossiping with her and a male bartender. Cleo seemed disinterested as she kept glancing in his direction. If he had the balls, he might of spoke up and called her back over, but he hadn't.

However, it didn't take long for her to return to his end. "So how was your day, Mister Ross?" Adam felt dismay at her formal words.

"It was… fine…" He barely managed to make his voice go above a whisper. "Doesn't look that way. Kinda looks like you've been through Hell." Her observation surprised him.

Cleo leaned onto the counter, arms crossed, her eyes holding a certain interest in them. "Wanna talk about it?"

It was tempting. Tempting to get everything off his chest, confide in someone that wouldn't laugh at him or judge his wimpy behavior. At least, he hoped she wouldn't.

"I had…" He started, but stopped to reword his sentence. "Mac… and the team had a case that involved a kid…" Adam stared into his golden beer. "The kid murdered his father… But… the guy deserved it."

"I… I mean… He was physically and… mentally abusive to the kid… And…" Adam didn't know exactly how to say what he was thinking, or if he sounded like a heartless fool.

When he dared to lift his eyes to meet hers, she honestly seemed sympathetic. "Don't beat yourself up over it." Cleo's words surprised him.

"You're just very sensitive to a situation like that… I think that's a good quality. Compassion is what the world needs most right now." Her voice was comforting as she wiped down the counter with a rag. She only seemed to do that when she was tense. Yet Adam found himself overwhelmed with a sense of warmth that crept up on him from her words. He was unprepared for how her words would make him feel.

"Thanks…" A half smile appeared on his lips. "No problem, Adam." Just as she spoke his name, the same blond girl waved her over again. This time, before he could chicken out, he spoke up. "Cleo… Uh, what's your real name? I mean, you know both my first and last name…" As the words left his mouth, he felt embarrassed.

He could of used that courage to ask her anything else. Her phone number. How her day was. If she had a boyfriend. But, he ended up wasting it on a inadequate question that made him seem like a stalker now.

Her thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. "My real name?" Her words were distant as a smile touched her lips. "Rule number one; never give a customer your real name." She cited the rule with pride.

Adam felt foolish again. He should of known. In fact, he did. God, he was such an idiot.

"Though. I'll give you a break, since your day has sucked so much. I'll give you the first letter of my name." She teased with a charming grin, "F."

Even though he only had the first letter of her name, it filled him with hope. He didn't know what else to say to her. His mind was bottled with just what her name could be. Or why she had bent the rules just for him. It couldn't be just because of his horrid day, could it?

Before he could ask that question, she was gone. Back with the girl that seemed attached to her hip. He didn't mind though, he had felt he made somewhat progress. It raised his self-esteem a bit too.

With that, he left the money on the counter for the next bartender and slid from his barstool. He stole one last glance before slipping out into the drizzling storm.


End file.
